


Like a Good Neighbor

by Bog_Wizard



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (but only one), Alternate Universe, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gerry and Michael being good neighbors, Gerry is good with children, Kissing, Leitner Books (The Magnus Archives), M/M, Neighbors, light foreshadowing for Gerry's brain tumor, nothing graphic, some light mentions of blood/injury in a later chapter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24674677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bog_Wizard/pseuds/Bog_Wizard
Summary: A collection of short fics from Michael and Gerry's time living together.A companion piece for my other fic,For There is Nothing Lost, That May Not be Found, if Sought, to explain the presence/relationships with their neighbors. Can be read as a stand-alone piece!
Relationships: Gerard Keay/Michael Shelley
Comments: 15
Kudos: 61





	1. Lockpicks

**Author's Note:**

> As stated in the summary, this was written to better explain Michael and Gerry's relationships with their neighbors in my other fic, [For There is Nothing Lost, That May Not be Found, if Sought](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323999/chapters/55869739). If you haven't read it yet, and would like to, I'm going to warn you that it's pretty much purely angst at this point.
> 
> Partial credit for this goes to [glitter_bitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitter_bitch) for the conversation that helped inspire this! Love u <3

Gerry was not the most social person; Michael had always known this. But Michael also knew that it was important to be on good terms with your neighbors. Gerry would have been happy to distance himself from them, limit their interactions to no more than cordial nods in the halls, claiming it was for their protection. Michael, on the other hand, refused to live that way, and it had always been difficult for Gerry to say no to him for something so inconsequential.

Most of their neighbors seemed nice enough. Mrs. Hartford next door was a perfect sweetheart, and Cass and Sam across the hall seemed delighted to have a couple their own age on their floor. Michael hadn’t been expecting to become best friends with any of them, of course, but things had seemed to be going rather well.

At least, until they had reached the door at the end of the hall. The owner of the flat was an older man, and apparently extremely cranky. He’d barely even let Michael get out a ‘Hello’ before shutting the door in their faces again – Michael wasn’t sure why he’d bothered to even open it in the first place. It had been over a week, and Michael still had no idea of even his name. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.

It was a surprise, then, when Michael answered a knock at the door to find him standing on the other side, arms crossed over his chest.

“Hello. Can I help you?” Michael was not generally a petty person, but he would be lying if he said that he wasn’t tempted to shut the door as soon as he saw him.

The old man shuffled his feet, refusing to look Michael in the eye. “I seem to have locked myself out of my flat, and I can’t get ahold of the landlord.” He had a surprising accent – Michael thought it might be American, though he couldn’t say for sure.

“I’m terribly sorry to hear that, but if you can’t reach him, I doubt we’ll be able to,” Michael said, one eyebrow raised. “You’re welcome to stay here while you wait, if you need.”

“Well, actually, I was hoping maybe that boyfriend of yours could help me out.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure how you mean.” Michael said, trying to keep his voice even despite his rising anger.

“Well, you know his type- “

“His type?” Michael seethed. He had been willing to give this man the benefit of the doubt, but if he was implying what Michael thought he was… “You think that just because he has tattoos and piercings, he’s some kind of criminal?” Inside their flat, he could hear Gerry jump up from the couch at his change in tone.

“Are you going to tell me I’m wrong?” Their neighbor said, finally looking Michael in the eye.

“Michael?” Gerry wrapped an arm protectively around his waist. “What’s going on?”

“You know how to pick a lock, don’t you, boy?”

“I mean, yeah, but-” Gerry started to say, confused.

“See!” The man said proudly, “I told you.”

“That’s not the point.” Michael snapped.

“Woah, hey, it’s alright, Michael,” Gerry tried to calm him and, just this once, Michael was happy to refuse.

“No, it is not alright,” Michael turned to him instead. “He slammed the door in our faces when we first introduced ourselves, ignores us in the hall, and now he thinks he can come and just demand your help, because he thinks you look like a delinquent?”

He slammed the door shut, cutting off whatever protests the old man may have had. He felt bad about it, once it was done – losing his temper wasn’t something he did often, refusing to help someone even less so. But it wasn’t about him. He had insulted Gerry, and if there was one thing he wouldn’t let slide, it was that.

“It’s the principle of the thing, Gerry,” he said angrily, glaring daggers at the door.

“Michael?” Gerry asked again. He sounded uncertain, more so than Michael had ever heard. He wrapped his arms around Michael from behind, squeezing gently. “Are you alright?”

Michael took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I’m just – I’m angry!”

Gerry grabbed his shoulders, gently spinning him around and cupping his cheeks in his hands. “I mean, he’s not really wrong, babe. I commit crimes pretty much weekly.”

“Committing crimes for work is not the same as doing it for fun,” Michael said, leaning into the contact, “Besides, it would be different if he had ever bothered to speak to us before. He’s just assuming things!”

“I know, babe, I know. Some people just suck,” Gerry said, pulling Michael into a hug. “I am going to go help him, though. You wanted to be on good terms with our neighbors, right?”

Michael made a face. “Yeah, but…is he even worth it?”

“No, but I’d feel bad if I just left him out there. He _is_ old.” He waited, and when Michael didn’t respond, he prompted gently, “Unless you don’t want me to? Honestly, I’m perfectly happy to just go back to watching our movie.”

“No, you’re right,” Michael sighed. “Be the bigger person, and all that, right?”

“I’ll be back soon,” Gerry said, pressing a kiss to his cheek before ducking out of the door.

He pulled a couple of bobby pins out of his hair as he walked down the hall, bending them into shape. “You still want me to open your door?” He asked the man, who had apparently resolved to wait outside of his flat for the landlord.

“Are you gonna break my lock?” He asked, eyeing the pins in Gerry’s hand suspiciously.

Gerry stopped, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a no, then. Cool.” He turned, taking a few steps back down the hall.

“No, wait!” Gerry stopped, but didn’t turn around. “I’m…sorry,” the man said, spitting the words out as though they pained him. “Can you please help me get my door open?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” Gerry said, walking back over. The man grumbled something under his breath, and Gerry rolled his eyes, crouching down and sticking the pins into the lock.

“Smith.” The old man blurted out. “James Smith. I’m…uh…your boyfriend- “

“Michael.”

“Yeah. Michael was right. I’m sorry.”

“Damn. That’s a rare sentiment. Of course, it’s not really me you have to worry about; I’m used to this kind of bullshit from people.” He worked the pins in the lock for a moment, feeling another cotter pin click into place. “Good luck getting back into Michael’s good graces, though. I’ve never seen him that angry before.”

The lock turned a moment later, and Gerry swung the door open. “Thanks,” Smith said awkwardly.

“Good luck,” Gerry said again, patting him on the shoulder before heading back to his own flat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Smith I know I wrote you but I do not respect you at all. Stinky old man


	2. Cat Up a Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry helps rescue a cat from a tree

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the chapter with the slight tumor foreshadowing; as tagged, nothing graphic, it's just mentions of a headache

Gerry didn’t know what woke him at first. He sat up, staring into the darkness, trying to ignore the splitting pain in his skull. A knock on the door answered that question, and he rolled out of bed with a groan, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he padded down the short hallway to answer it.

He wasn’t sure who he’d expected – their landlord, maybe? – but a young girl, curly brown hair tied into messy pigtails and wearing pink pajamas certainly wasn’t it. He’d known the Harpers had a daughter; Michael had met her the last time he’d managed to make too many cookies. This must be her.

“Hello.”

“I…uh….” she said, backing up a step. Gerry looked down at his hand, and the makeup smeared on it. He must be a sight, squinting in the bright light of the hallway, the makeup he’d forgotten he was wearing before falling asleep probably smeared all over his face.

“Oh. Oops,” he said wiping his palm on sweatpants already well stained from years of the same, eliciting a giggle from her. He smiled, asking, “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Is Michael here?”

“Michael’s at the store. He’ll probably be back soon, though. Can I take a message?”

The girl (Lena? Was that her name?) looked as though she was about to cry. “Woah, hey, what’s wrong?” Gerry asked, crouching down to her height.

“My mom left me home while she brought something to Grandma. She didn’t want to, but I didn’t want to go. I promised I could handle it – I’m 10 years old!” She was sniffling harder now, and Gerry wished he had a tissue he could give her as a few tears started sliding down her cheeks. “She always tells me not to leave the window open but I thought it would be ok and Mrs. Snuggles would appreciate the fresh air but she got out and now I don’t know what to do!”

Her tears were falling thick and fast now, her words nearly incomprehensible through her sobs. “She’s stuck in the tree outside and she won’t come when I call her and I thought Michael could help because he’s tall but he’s not here either.”

“Hey, it’s ok,” Gerry said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Michael’s not here, but maybe I can help. Let me get my boots.”

Still sniffling, she nodded, wiping her eyes on the back of her hand. He stood, ducking back into his flat just long enough to pull his boots on and grab his keys from their hook on the wall.

“Alright,” he said, closing the door behind him, “let's go see about this cat.”

The cat in question was a small tabby, clearly terrified as it clung to dear life to a branch of the tree outside of Lena’s bedroom window. Gerry tried calling it with “pspsps” sounds, and Lena even tried bribing her with treats, but the cat wouldn’t budge, just mewling pitifully at them.

Gerry considered his options. The cat clearly was not going to come to them, and the branches directly outside of the window were far too slim to possibly hold his weight. “Ok, stay here,” he told Lena, “make sure she doesn’t go anywhere.”

He hurried down the stairs to street level, quietly cursing himself for not tying laces as he narrowly avoided tripping over them more than once. The street outside was as busy as ever, and Gerry was on the receiving end of more than a few strange looks. He ignored them, dodging around passerby to get to the base of the tree.

Mrs. Snuggles was still right where he’d left her, claws dug into the bark of the tree as she stared at the cars passing on the street below. The tree wasn’t particularly large, and even the branches nearest the trunk didn’t look as though they were entirely capable of holding his weight. Still, he didn’t see any better option.

He glanced up, giving Lena a reassuring smile as she peered out of the window, and began to climb.

He’d never had much of a problem with heights. Even still, being perched on a narrow, flexible branch over passing traffic while trying to calm a terrified cat was not an experience he ever wanted to repeat. It took quite a bit of coaxing to get Mrs. Snuggles to let go of the branch, and quite a bit more to get her to stop squirming when he finally had her in his arms.

Gerry had briefly considered trying to hand her back through the window to Lena, but the mental image of her wriggling out of his grip and falling to the ground below was an awful one, and he vetoed the idea quickly. Thankfully, he was close enough to the ground to drop the distance without hurting himself. He all but ran back inside the building, figuring that, if the cat did manage to squirm out of his grip, at least she couldn’t get very far inside the building.

Lena met him at the door to the stairwell, practically tackling him with a hug. “Oh, thank you, thank you _thank you_ ,” she said emphatically, “I don’t know what I would have done if anything had happened to her!”

“It’s no problem at all!” Gerry said, doing his best to pat her gently on the head as he struggled to keep Mrs. Snuggles from squirming out of his arms.

“Bad Mrs. Snuggles!” Lena scolded as she took the cat, much to Gerry’s relief. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Careful, she’s very squirmy,” he warned, though Lena didn’t seem to have a problem carrying her down the hall. “And make sure you close that window!”

“I will! Lena called back, and Gerry waved goodbye before shutting the door to his flat behind him.

Leaning against the door, he tried to give his eyes time to readjust to the darkness within. He rubbed his temples, trying to ignore his throbbing headache. At this point, he wasn’t sure whether sleeping more would actually help it, but he wasn’t sure what else to do.

It was worth a shot. Gerry probably had some more time before Michael got home, at the very least. He pushed himself off of the door with a grimace, wandering off to the bathroom to take off what remained of his makeup.

_______

He wasn’t sure how long had passed when he was woken by another knock at the door. He groaned, rolling off of the couch and pushing himself to his feet.

“Oh! Don’t worry, I’ll get it!” Michael said from the kitchen.

How had he managed to sleep through Michael coming home, but not the barely audible knocking? He rubbed at his forehead as he walked towards the hall, trying to form thoughts around the pain that still refused to leave. The scene was so similar to a few hours prior he had to stop for a moment, shaking his head as he tried to get his bearings.

Michael pulled the door open. “Ah! Mr. and Mrs. Harper! What can I do for you?”

“Please, call us Sam and Cass.” Gerry heard them say as he walked up the hall. He wrapped his arm around Michael’s waist, giving a smile and a wave of greeting to the couple at the door.

“Hello, Gerry! We were coming to see you, actually,” Cass said, “Lena told us how you helped with Mrs. Snuggles. We wanted to thank you.”

“Oh, it was no problem at all. I was happy to help,” he said. “She’s not in too much trouble, is she?”

“No, I think she’s learned a better lesson than any punishment we could give her.” Sam shook his head. “She didn’t even try to hide it from us, she was so upset.”

“She can’t stop talking about you climbing the tree to get her, though,” Cass chimed in. “I think you’re her new hero.”

“Oh, please. It was nothing,” Gerry said, trying to hide his embarrassment. He could feel his face getting red; he hoped it was dim enough inside of their doorway that it wouldn’t be visible, but he didn’t hold out much hope.

“It’s hardly nothing,” Sam laughed, “I wouldn’t have been able to climb that tree. But! We also wanted to ask – we have family game nights on Fridays. Would the pair of you like to join us this week? It would be nice to have some new faces at the table.”

Gerry looked up at Michael. “I don’t think we have any plans, do we?”

Michael hummed quietly, in that way he always did when he was thinking. “No, I’m fairly sure we don’t. We would love to come!”

“Great!” Cass beamed. “We’ll see you Friday night, then. I’ll text you the time.”

“See you Friday!” Michael called after them.

He closed the door gently, and Gerry turned, embracing Michael fully. He buried his face into the soft fabric of his sweater with a sigh, closing his eyes as Michael ran his fingers through Gerry’s hair. “Good morning, sweetheart,” Michael said.

“It’s not morning, is it?” Gerry asked, concerned. He hadn’t actually slept through the whole night, had he?

“No, my love. I was just about to start making dinner.”

“Oh.” He wasn’t actually sure whether or not he was relieved at the fact; it was easier not to think too hard about it.

“What is this about you climbing a tree?”

“Lena came knocking while you were out; their cat got out through the open window and she was the only one home,” Gerry explained, his voice muffled against Michael’s chest. “She was looking for you, actually. She thought maybe you could reach her, since you’re so tall.”

Michael chuckled at that, and Gerry took a moment to appreciate the sound before continuing. “I tried to get her through the window, but she was too far away, so I went out and climbed the tree.”

“That’s my Gerry,” Michael said, “Always the hero.” He said it with such affection it made Gerry’s breath catch in his throat.

“How was your nap?”

Gerry made a face. “My head still hurts. I was hoping it’d go away.”

Michael tutted, ushering him back down the hall before walking towards the kitchen. “I’ll get you some painkillers, and a glass of water. You go lie back down.”

He didn’t have the capacity to argue, sitting back down on the couch as Michael bustled around the kitchen. He came over soon enough, handing Gerry a glass of water and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Can I bring you anything else before I start dinner?”

Gerry set the water down, grabbing both of his hands and tugging gently. “Lay with me? Just for a little bit,” he asked.

“Of course,” Michael said.

Snuggled up together on the couch, Gerry could ignore the pounding in his head. His life would never be perfect, he’d come to accept that long ago. Lying there in the darkness, though, listening to the steady beat of Michael’s heart as his hands ran gently through his hair, Gerry didn’t mind. Maybe this wasn’t perfect, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lena was supposed to just appear in this fic but I got way too attached to her and know she's a whole fleshed-out oc. I may and up writing a whole-ass fic for her one of these days sdhkfs. That's just how these things go, I guess


	3. Game Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Game night with the neighbors

Friday had been a hell of a day. Michael wasn’t sure exactly what had caused it, but Gertrude had been unusually cranky. He suspected she might be planning a trip of some sort; she’d had him and Gerry both running around all day, fetching books, statements, and other supplementary materials from all over the institute.

Whatever the reason, it had been a particularly exhausting day, and Michael was glad to be home. So glad, in fact, that he only remembered he and Gerry had made plans when he received a reminder text from Cass.

“Oh! Gerry! Game night!” He said, reaching out to stop Gerry from dialing their favorite take-out.

Gerry swore, sitting back up from his slumped position on the couch. “Is that tonight?”

“Cass just texted me – she said they have pizzas on the way. Oh, drat, I was going to bake cookies! I completely forgot.”

Gerry followed him to the hall, the both of them pulling back on the shoes they had just kicked off so eagerly. “I’m sure they’ll understand, babe. Besides, you bring them your baking at least once a week.”

“I know, but it just feels so wrong to show up empty-handed,” Michael fretted.

“I promise it’ll be fine,” Gerry said. He grabbed Michael’s hand, pressing a quick kiss to his knuckles before pulling him towards the door. “Come on, we’re already late.”

Thankfully, they only had to cross the hall. Lena answered the door, within moments of their knock. “There you are!” She said, impatiently grabbing Gerry’s hand and pulling him inside.

“Hello to you too!” He laughed. Michael followed them in, making sure the door closed behind them.

“Sorry we’re late,” Gerry was already apologizing to Sam in the living room when Michael joined him. “Long day at work – I’m glad you texted. We had honestly forgotten.”

“We figured as much,” Sam said. “Are you sure you still want to join? It’s ok if you need to cancel.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Michael said, “We’ve been looking forward to this all week.”

“Well, pizza should be here any minute,” Cass announced from the kitchen. “Lena, do you want to set up a game?”

“Yeah!” she shouted, then grabbed Michael and pulled him towards the living room with her. “Come on!”

“I want to play Scrabble!” She said, pulling the game out from a pile on the shelf beneath the coffee table. She opened the box eagerly, scattering an assortment of pieces over the table’s surface.

Michael knelt down next to her, looking at the small mess with mild bewilderment. “It’s been a long time since I last played Scrabble. I’m not sure I even remember how to play.”

“Don’t worry, I can sit next to you and help you.” She dug around in the bottom of the box, retrieving a few loose letter tiles. “I’m pretty good at this game. Not as good as my dad, though – he always wins.”

“Every time?”

Lena nodded. “One day I’m going to beat him,” she said solemnly.

“Maybe today will be the day,” Michael said.

Sam chose that moment to walk into the room, Gerry following behind him. Lena jumped to her feet, pointing dramatically at her dad as she did so. “Yeah! You, sir, are going down!”

“I think you are mistaken!” Sam announced back, just as dramatically, and Michael got the feeling that this was a regular occurrence between the two.

It was a long game, and by the end of it Michael wasn’t sure if he was just bad at Scrabble, or if he just had terrible luck drawing letters. Despite all of Lena’s help he still managed to come in dead last. Still, it had been a fun night, full of laughter, bad jokes, and too much pizza. As far as Michael was concerned, that was all that mattered.

For all of Lena’s excitement and bravado, it had not actually been the day. Not for Lena, at least. Gerry, on the other hand - if Gerry hadn’t already been Lena’s hero after rescuing her cat, Michael was certain that he was by the end of game night. Gerry had solidly wiped the floor with all of them at Scrabble, something that delighted Lena to no end.

“Ha! I told you you’re not invincible!” She’d announced to Sam once scores were counted. “Just you wait! One of these days will be my turn!”

At the moment, Gerry was across the room, preoccupied as Lena introduced him to her extensive collection of barbie dolls. Michael was still at the coffee table, helping Cass clean up the mess from the pizzas.

“Really, Michael, you don’t have to help,” she said.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” he said, picking up the stack of plates. “Besides, it’s all paper.”

“Precisely the reason I can handle it,” she said with a smile, but didn’t protest further as Michael followed her back to the kitchen. “I can’t tell you how nice it is to have another couple our age living here.”

“Oh, you don’t have to. We were so relieved to meet you two.” He dumped the paper plates into the garbage, moving out of the way as Cass put the pizza boxes on the counter. “And Lena is such a delight!”

“She really likes you both. That’s a bit rare, for her.” Cass laughed. “Usually, she complains whenever we bring our friends over. Says they’re “boring.”

“I remember thinking the same of my parent’s friends at her age,” Michael laughed. “I have to say, I’m honored.”

“You know, now that you mention it, so do I,” Lena said, scrunching her nose up. She thought for a moment more before shaking her head. “You’re welcome again next week, if you’d like.”

“We’d love to!” Michael said. “And, we won’t be late next time!”


	4. Nat Geo Wild

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry and Michael, babysitters extraordinaire

It was a few weeks and several game nights later that Sam and Cass first asked them to babysit Lena. It wasn’t for long, just a few hours while they went to a late-night concert.

She had been staunchly determined to stay awake until her parents arrived to pick her up, but even the strongest determination was no match for a blanket burrito and the calm voice of the narrator of a nature documentary. She’d fallen asleep before they’d even made it halfway through the program; Michael followed soon after, leaving Gerry to answer the knock on the door, when it came.

“Hey!” He greeted Sam and Cass quietly, “Lena fell asleep on the couch. I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Did Lena do your makeup?” Cass asked, laughing.

“Oh! Yeah, she did,” Gerry said. He’d honestly managed to forget – she’d begged him relentlessly to show her how he did it, the first half hour she was there, and eventually he’d caved. It hadn’t taken long for “showing her” to turn into “letting her do it.”

“I think she actually did pretty well, considering it’s her first time,” he said with a quiet laugh.

“Oh, boy. I’d better hide my makeup. I can imagine how this is going to go.”

“Maybe you should get her a set of her own,” Gerry suggested. “I doubt anything will stop her from getting into yours if she wants to.”

“You’re right about that,” Cass sighed.

“I’ll get Lena,” Sam said, handing Cass his keys. “Why don’t you go start getting ready for bed? I’ll be right there.”

“Are you sure you don’t want us to pay you?” Cass fretted as she took the keys.

“No, absolutely not,” Gerry said, “It was no trouble at all.”

“If you’re sure,” she said uncertainly.

“I’m sure,” he said, holding the door open for Sam. “Goodnight, Cass.”

“Goodnight,” she said, turning back towards her own flat with a wave and a small smile.

Gerry let the door shut behind him, leading the way to the living room. “Sorry about the boxes,” he said, realizing suddenly just how many of them were left to unpack. “I’ve been meaning to get to them for weeks now, but they’re kind of the last thing I want to do after a long work week, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” Sam said, “It took Cass and I months to fully unpack when we first moved in.”

“Makes me wonder how much of this stuff I actually need,” Gerry laughed quietly, “I certainly haven’t missed any of it.”

Gerry switched on the lamp on the end table, not wanting to turn on the overhead lamp and risk waking Lena. She didn’t move, still wrapped in one of Michael’s quilts and nestled up against the arm of the couch.

“Oh, National Geographic,” Sam said, spotting what was playing on the T.V.

“She insisted,” Gerry said. “She said she wanted to show us her favorite documentary.”

“Yeah, she’s never really been one for cartoons.” He stepped around to the front of the couch, laughing as he spotted Michael. “Looks like we have a pair of sleepyheads, here. I’ll be quiet.”

“Nah, don’t worry about him. He’s a bit of a heavy sleeper.” He couldn’t help the smile that crept over his face as he looked at Michael. He always looked adorable, but he was especially so when he was asleep, messy curls framing his face, without the worry that plagued him all hours of the day.

Sam carefully unearthed Lena from the quilt, scooping her up into his arms. “I’ll go put her to bed – thank you so much, again.”

“Of course!” Gerry said, following him back down the hallway and opening the door for him. “And, really, we’d be happy to look after her any time. Have a good night!”

“Good night!” Sam called back.

Back in the living room, Gerry shut the T.V. off. “Michael,” he said softly, shaking his shoulder, “come on. Let’s go to bed.”

He didn’t really reply, mumbling sleepily before shifting into a slightly more comfortable position on the couch. Gerry sighed – he knew what that meant. Michael wasn’t going to be awake enough to move himself to the bed any time soon.

“Alright, come on,” he said. He sat down, gently maneuvering Michael into his arms. Their couch was comfortable enough, but Gerry wasn’t particularly keen on spending the night on it if he didn’t need to. He knew Michael felt the same way, even if he was too far gone to realize it just then.

“My hero,” Michael murmured as Gerry stood up, nuzzling his face into Gerry’s shoulder.

Gerry couldn’t help but snort out a laugh at that, even if he loved the way the words – and the sleepy voice saying them – made his heart flutter. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, carrying Michael through the door to their bedroom.


	5. The Great British Bake-Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael bakes too much; his new neighbors don't discourage it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can you tell I put practically no thought into these chapter titles skjfsdf

Within a few days of moving into their new flat, Michael had somehow managed to land himself in a bit of a bake-off with Mrs. Hartford next door. It wasn’t even Michael’s fault, not really. The day after he and Gerry had made their rounds introducing themselves, she had shown up with a freshly baked apple pie, still warm from the oven, claiming it was a welcome gift.

It was delicious. Michael, for his part, could hardly let such a gift go unreturned. That weekend, the next chance he got, he’d baked up some of his favorite chocolate chip cookies and brought them over to her. A few days later she was back again, this time bearing a lemon cake.

And so, a delicious rivalry was born. Michael was hardly complaining; he’d had always had a habit of baking more than he could eat, and that hadn’t changed when he and Gerry began dating, even with the help of Gerry’s notorious sweet tooth. Now, he had a good excuse for making so much.

“Do you think she even realizes it’s a competition?” Gerry asked, perched on the counter beside Michael as he worked.

“She knows exactly what she’s doing,” Michael said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear, “I can see the glee written all over her face whenever she brings something new over.”

“I think she just likes having something to _do_ ,” Gerry said, reaching over to steal a spoonful of brownie batter out of the mixing bowl.

“Hey! Stop that,” Michael grabbed the bowl and moved it across the counter, out of his reach. “You’re probably right. I have to say, though, out of all of the things I did worry about moving here, this certainly wasn’t one of them.”

“Hah! Yeah, I was definitely expecting people to be more on the “Mr. Smith” end of the spectrum.” He swung his legs idly as he talked, bouncing his heels on the cabinet doors.

“At least he apologized. He’s even started returning my “hello!” when I see him in the hall.” Their neighbor was still generally cranky, but he had written out an apology letter and gifted them with a potted plant, so Michael was willing to forgive and forget.

Gerry pulled his spoon from his mouth, free of batter again. “Wow. Give it a few months, maybe he’ll even start being friendly.”

“I don’t know; When I mentioned it to Cass, she was genuinely surprised,” Michael said, turning to pull a pan down out of one of the cupboards. “Apparently, in all the time she and Sam have lived here, he’s never so much as smiled in their direction.”

“Look, that’s just proof that we’re making progress.”

“Maybe you’re – Gerry!” Michael exclaimed, turning back around to find that Gerry had stolen the bowl back and was in the process of scooping out another spoonful of batter. “I need that!”

“Not all of it!” Gerry protested, hopping off of the counter.

He tried to dance out of Michael’s reach, but he wasn’t quick enough. Michael snatched the bowl away, holding it up over his head. “You can have the bowl when I’m done!”

“Aww, come on, babe,” Gerry whined, giving Michael his best puppy-dog eyes.

That face may have worked when they’d first started dating, but Michael had a neighborly competition to win. “Absolutely not. You’ve had quite enough.”

“Just one more scoop?”

Michael pretended to consider for a moment. “Alright, fine,” he said as Gerry grinned. “Once there’s brownies in the oven.”

“Aww, come on, that’s not what I meant!”

“You’re lucky I’m giving you that, after how much you’ve already eaten,” Michael chided him. He put the bowl back down as Gerry grumbled unhappily in the doorway behind him.

“Fine,” he relented, “but can I have a kiss?”

“I suppose I’ll allow it,” Michael said with a small smile.

He probably should have realized what was up when Gerry came over to him, pressing him back against the counter. He couldn’t help but be distracted as he ran his fingers through Gerry’s hair, only paying attention to the small moan the action prompted and the feel of Gerry’s mouth on his own. By the time Michael noticed him reaching behind him, it was too late.

“Haha!” Gerry said triumphantly as Michael pulled away, quickly stuffing his spoon into his mouth before running out of the room.

“Ugh! Gerry!” Michael called after him, though he didn’t bother to give chase. He’d get him back later. Besides, he’d started making extra batter for this purpose long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was one of my favorite chapters to write :')


	6. Accidental Uncles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Babysitting round 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who's subscribed to this story: I am so sorry for the chapter spam, but I finally finished editing the next chapter of the [parent fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23323999/chapters/55869739) to this one, and I'd like to have all of this up before I post that. It's been longer than I'd like since I was last able to update that, so everything is getting posted together, whoops

Gerry was perched on a stool in his bathroom, doing his best not to move. It was easier said than done; Lena was quite the talker, and trying to respond to her while also avoiding taking an eyeliner pencil to the eye was a delicate balancing act.

Her current topic of discussion was some new makeup tutorial she had watched. Cass had taken his advice, buying Lena her own starter kit of makeup. She liked to practice, and Gerry was happy to let her. He’d tried his best to give her tips, in the beginning, but he’d never bothered to learn much beyond the basics; she was definitely beyond the help of his skills, now.

“All done!” Lena said excitedly, putting the cap back on the pencil and dropping it back into Gerry’s makeup bag.

“Oh, wow,” Gerry said, looking in the mirror. It was definitely a far cry from the first time he’d let her try doing his makeup. “Nice job! Someone’s obviously been practicing.”

Lena scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Of course. What do you think this is, amateur hour?”

Gerry put his hand over his heart, gasping in mock hurt. “You wound me,” he said dramatically.

“What are you talking about?” Lena asked, laughing. She followed him back to the living room as he plopped onto the couch, making sure to avoid smudging his makeup as he draped an arm across his forehead.

“I see how it is. Your skills have clearly far surpassed mine; I’m just an amateur, useless to you now.”

“Aww, come on, you know that’s not what I meant!” She grabbed one of the decorative pillows, smacking him with it.

“Ah! Hey!” Gerry dropped the act, jumping to his feet and dodging out of the way of her next swing. “Yeah, I know.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Gerry checked his phone, surprised. “Wow, 5:30 already. That’ll be your dad, probably.”

“Aww, man, already?” Lena pouted.

Gerry laughed, ruffling her hair. “Don’t worry, kid, you live right across the hall. And, we’ve got game night on Friday, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Go get your stuff. I’ll go meet your dad.”

She nodded, running off to where she’d left her bag in the kitchen. Gerry headed up the short hallway to the door, flipping the light on.

“Hey, Sam,” he said, opening the door. “Lena’s just grabbing her things, she’ll be out in a sec.”

“Great! Thank you so much – I’m so sorry this was so last minute. I don’t know how Cass and I managed to miss this.” He looked frazzled – it must have been a long day, and Gerry was sure realizing no one would be home when Lena got home from school hadn’t helped. “Our schedules do overlap sometimes, but we’re usually on top of it. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when you said you’d be home.”

“Oh, it’s no problem – I know how inconvenient work schedules can be.” Gerry was supposed to be at work right now, actually. But, he hadn’t been working on anything when Sam had called him, and he was a big fan of taking any opportunity to waste Elias’s time and money, so he’d just left. He would have gotten Michael to come, too had Gertrude not sent him out on an errand.

“I see she did your makeup again,” Sam said with a laugh.

“Yeah, she-“ He was interrupted as Lena practically ran up the short hall, the keychains on her school bag jingling.

“Dad! Dad, look! Did you see what I did?” She all but crashed into Sam, grabbing his arm excitedly and pointing to Gerry.

“Yes, I did! You’re practically a professional already,” he said, and she grinned. “Come on, we gotta hurry if we’re going to surprise mommy with dinner.”

“Ok!” She grabbed his hand, tugging him across the hallway to their flat. “Bye, Uncle Gerry! See you Friday!”

Michael walked through the door a few minutes later to find Gerry sitting on the living room floor, staring at the ceiling and fanning at his face in an attempt not to cry.

“Gerry? Is everything ok?” He asked frantically, dropping to the floor beside him.

“No, no, I’m fine,” he choked out.

“But – did something happen? What’s the matter?” He pulled Gerry up into his lap, and Gerry bit his lip, the action not helping him to find some sort of middle ground between wanting to laugh at himself, and wanting to sob.

“Oh, god, it’s so stupid, you’re going to laugh at me,” Gerry said, covering his face with his hands. “Lena called me Uncle Gerry, when she left.”

Michael stared at him in disbelief for a moment before starting to giggle. “Oh, Gerry.”

“Stop – don’t laugh at me,” Gerry said, though a grin of his own started to creep across his face. “I wasn’t expecting it, is all! And then I was trying really hard not to ruin my makeup, she did so good with it!”

“I thought there was something actually wrong!” Michael laughed again, running a hand through Gerry’s hair. “I was worried!”

“You’re always worried,” Gerry said affectionately. “I’m sorry I just – I didn’t think she liked me that much.”

“Well, what’s not to like?” Michael pressed a kiss to his forehead, and Gerry felt the all-too-familiar heat of a blush creeping up into his cheeks. From the looks of Michel’s grin, he could see it, too.

“Stop that,” Gerry said, embarrassed.

Michael’s only response was to pull him into a kiss. It was the best response Gerry could have hoped for, soft and sweet. Gerry leaned into it, wrapping his arms around Michael’s neck. He reveled in the quiet sounds Michael made, the way his hands came up and tangled themselves in his hair.

They were both more than a little breathless when they pulled apart. After a few moments, Michael said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry. I’m going to go get dinner started. Want to help?”

“Sure, just – I need a minute,” Gerry said, relaxing against Michael’s chest. “That was a lot of emotions in a short time.”

“Of course, my love,” Michael laughed softly, and Gerry sighed, content.

“I love you, Michael,” he said, taking his hand and lacing their fingers together.

“I love you, too.”


	7. Party Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry and Michael go to a birthday party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gerry is good with kids and I'll die on this hill

“Which one is yours?” Michael stood in the doorway to the Harper’s kitchen, chatting casually with the few parents who had decided to stay for the length of the party. He looked out to the living room, where a crowd of children were occupying themselves with the various birthday activities Sam had set up.

He laughed, pointing to Gerry, sitting on the ground with Lena and another pair of children he didn’t recognize. “That one.”

“Oh!” Jessica, the woman who had asked, looked slightly taken aback.

“We don’t have any children,” Michael said, by way of explanation. “We live next door. Gerry helped Lena rescue her cat, once, and they’ve been thick as thieves ever since.”

“Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Michael,” Cass said, walking by with a tray, “She loves you just as much. And she never stops talking about your cookies.” 

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?” Michael fretted. He’d asked multiple times already, but he had never been a fan of just standing around while someone else was working. 

“I’m fine, Michael. If I need help, I’ll come ask. Promise.” She continued past them, back into the kitchen. 

“Well, you should consider yourselves lucky,” Angela piped up from the other side of the counter, “Between my kids and work, I hardly even have time to think.” 

“Mom!! Mom, look!” a curly-haired boy interrupted them, running up to Jessica. He was brandishing a balloon sword, repeatedly smacking it into her arm. 

“Robert!” She said, exasperated. “Where did you get that?”

“I’m gonna be a pirate!” Robert ignored the question, posing dramatically with his sword instead. “Aaaarrr!” 

He ran back into the living room, and Michael saw that almost all of the children had acquired swords. Those who didn’t were bouncing excitedly around Gerry as he made another. 

“I didn’t even realize he had those.” Michael tried to recall whether he had seen any of the balloons around their flat, or even when he might have bought them. 

“He’s quite talented, isn’t he?” Jessica laughed. 

“Yes, he is,” Michael said affectionately, leaning his chin against his hand. Realizing he was staring, he shook himself, slightly - he probably looked like a pining fool. “I know he looks scary, but really he’s the biggest softie I’ve ever met.” 

“So it would seem. Do you think I could hire him for my kid’s parties?” Angela asked, “I don’t know how he’s managed it, but I haven’t had to entertain Brady myself this whole time.” 

“If only we had that kind of time,” Michael said sadly. 

“Oh, I hear you, don’t worry,” Jessica said, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. 

Cass appeared beside them, setting a stack of plates down on the counter. “So sorry to interrupt, but could I convince someone to help me set up the table?” 

“Of course! Anything for our gracious host,” Angela said as Jessica and Michael followed her to the table. 

_______

The rest of the party passed without incident, save for directly after dinner, when all of the children decided it would be a fun idea to chase Gerry around the flat and tackle him to the ground. Gerry was strong, but not enough to carry eight 10-year-olds. They only relented when he promised to give piggyback rides. 

He was still doing so now, as Cass waited for a few last parents to come pick up their children.

“I don’t think he’s going to stop unless I force him,” Michael said, pausing in his efforts to help tidy up the kitchen. 

“Maybe you should go get him,” Cass laughed, “he looks tired.”

“I’d hate to leave you by yourself, though,” Michael fretted.

“Oh, please, he’s been entertaining the kids all day. I can handle a few minutes while I’m waiting for their parents to get here.” She hung up the dish towel she’d been holding, pushing Michael towards the living room. “Go on, go. Rescue your boyfriend.” 

“Yeah, if I can get him to leave,” Michael laughed. 

He hated to be a spoilsport, but Gerry really did look almost on the verge of collapse as he bounced around the room, carrying Lena. “Come on, Gerry, it’s getting late. We should head home.” 

“Aww, man,” he said, letting Lena slide down off of his back. “Sorry, kiddos. Looks like that’s it.” 

“Noooo,” one of the kids, Jacob, cried, clinging on to Gerry’s leg. “But it was my turn next!” 

“You had four turns!” Lena said, pulling him off of Gerry and dragging him bodily across the room. “Uncle Michael says it's time for him to go, so he has to go!” 

“Do you want me to get in trouble, Jacob?” Gerry asked, barely holding back laughter. 

“No, I guess not,” he sighed, defeated, staring up at the ceiling from where Lena had dropped him. 

Michael took Gerry’s hand, pulling him gently towards the door. 

“Bye, guys!” Gerry called, waving as he left the room. 

Lena followed them to the door. “Run away!” she whispered loudly, “Get out while you still can!” 

“Oh, come on,” Michael said, “they’re your friends! They can’t be that bad.” 

“After four hours? Yes they can,” she said, glaring back towards the living room. “Thanks for coming to my party!” she said brightly, waving. 

“Thanks for having us!” Michael said. He realized as they left that they’d forgotten to say goodbye to Cass; for once, he wasn’t worried about rudeness. She would understand, he was sure. Besides, he could always make her something, as an apology. 

As the door to their own flat shut behind them, Gerry slumped against the wall. “I am _so_ tired.” 

“I can’t believe you managed to keep all of those children entertained for that long,” Michael said, kicking his shoes off. 

“How do they all have that much energy?” Gerry asked, running his hands over his face. 

“I’m sure the parents there are wondering the same thing about you. Anyone else would have quit after the first round of piggyback rides, if that.” Most likely, anyone else wouldn’t have bothered. 

“I know, I tried. But how am I supposed to say no? They were all so cute.” With a groan, he pushed himself up off of the wall and walked further into their flat, taking his sweatshirt off as he did. 

“You’re far too nice for your own good, Mr. Keay,” Michael said, pulling him gently towards the couch. “Come on, let's watch a movie or something. You look like you could use some time to relax.” 

“Are you going to carry me to bed if I fall asleep?” Gerry asked with a massive yawn. He smiled sheepishly, and Michael chuckled. He looked exhausted. 

Michael pulled him closer, kissing him on the forehead before pushing Gerry gently towards the bedroom. “I’ll get my laptop,” he said, “we can watch something in bed.” 

Gerry nodded sleepily and wandered off towards the bedroom. Michael watched him go for a moment, smiling. He suspected that Gerry wouldn’t make it very far through a movie at all. Humming quietly, he went to find his laptop anyways. 


	8. Nurse Hartford

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerry gets some help after getting into a fight with a book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small content warning: This chapter contains some light mentions of blood and an injury to Gerry's hand, as well as stitches.

Gerry almost felt like he should be more worried than he was, about Lena, their neighbors, about something following him home. But their apartment was well protected, and he was always extra cautious when he and Michael were on their way home from the institute, ensuring that they weren’t followed.

No, their apartment was safe. Unfortunately for Gerry, there was no way to extend those same protections to himself everywhere he went, and he had managed to make quite a few enemies over the course of his life. Coming home bruised and bloody from a book hunt or after disrupting cult activities was normal for him, really. 

It was so normal that the latest time it happened, he managed to forget that he no longer lived in a dingy single-bedroom flat in a shady neighborhood. Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was the pain clouding his thoughts, but it didn’t occur to him that he now had neighbors that weren’t used to people coming home looking like they’d been in a knife fight. And so it was that he came face-to-face with Mrs. Hartford, apparently in the process of knocking on their door, looking for Michael. 

“Uh…He’s still at work,” Gerry said awkwardly, all too aware of his bruised face, of his injured hand and wrist, blood soaking through the section of his shirt that he had torn off to wrap it with and threatening to drip onto the floor. 

He cursed himself for being so stupid; what if Lena had seen? She was probably still at school, but if she had been home? 

As it was, Mrs. Hartford was staring at him in horror. “Gerry! What happened to you?” 

He knew he looked like a deer in headlights; he certainly felt it, unable to move as she stared him down. “Would you believe me if I said I fell down the stairs?” 

“No! Why are you not at the hospital?” 

“It’s not that bad! I can take care of it myself,” he said, resisting the urge to hide his arm behind his back. He would have liked to duck into his flat, but she was still standing in front of the door. 

“Not that bad?” She asked, incredulous. “Gerry, you’re bleeding onto the floor!” 

Gerry swore, trying to adjust the cloth to keep any more blood from dripping out. “Listen, it’s fine, really. I know plenty about first aid; I don’t need to go to the hospital.” 

“If you insist on being stubborn, then at least let me help you. You’re not going to be able to do anything with your hand in that state.” 

“Really, Mrs. Hartford, it’s-“

“No! Not another word. Let’s go,” she said, bustling him off towards the door of her own flat. 

She had the same no-nonsense tone Gertrude always used, the kind that assured him he wouldn’t be able to get a word in edgewise. She pushed him in the direction of the kitchen, with firm instructions to sit down and wait for her to get back. 

Her kitchen was clean and bright, but he couldn’t help his tense discomfort as he perched on the very edge of one of her worn wooden chairs, clutching his injured hand to his chest and wishing he were back in his own flat. He blinked in surprise as she came back in, toting a surprisingly large first aid kit. 

She caught his confused stare, saying, “I was a nurse, before I retired, and I had 4 boys – keeping a well-stocked first aid cabinet is a hard habit to shake.” She pulled out a set of gloves, pulling them on with practiced motions. “Now, let me see that hand.” 

Gerry briefly considered protesting again, but the glare she gave him squashed any desire to. He unwrapped the fabric from around his hand, hissing quietly as the drying blood pulled at the torn skin. 

She didn’t say anything as she looked over his hand, though the firm set of her mouth portrayed more disapproval than her words could have. She shook her head and pulled him over to the sink, carefully cleaning the wounds. 

“Just what is that Institute having you do? You’re an archival assistant,” she said angrily, “And yet, here you are, looking like you stuck your hand in some kind of animal den.” 

Gerry didn’t say anything at first, hoping she would let him off without an explanation. For a few moments, it seemed as though he may actually be so lucky as she silently led him back to the table. 

“You’re going to need stitches.” Gerry almost asked where she had managed to get the surgical-grade needle and thread she pulled out of the kit on the table, but considering the amount of medical grade supplies he and Michael had stashed away in their own flat, he figured it might be a bit hypocritical. 

“Well?” 

“Well…what?” He asked, staring resolutely down at the table. 

“Don’t give me that. What were you doing, that you came home bleeding all over the floor? I thought you were at work.” 

He didn’t say anything, mind racing as he tried to find a convincing lie. It was hard, thinking through the haze of pain, but he could hardly tell her the truth. ‘Oh, the evil book I was tracking down had claws, and I didn’t realize until I was already holding it!’ That would go over well, he was sure. 

He _had_ fallen down the stairs; that much, at least, was true -he’d been halfway down them when the book had decided it didn’t like him. 

“I was at work,” Gerry said finally. “Well, I started out at work. I had to go pick up a book for the Archivist, but I tripped down the stairs and put my hand through a window.” He knew it wouldn’t _really_ hold up under scrutiny; there was no broken glass in his skin. But it should be enough to get her off of his back, at least. 

Lie completed, he finally managed to meet her gaze. Gerry tried to keep his face impassive as she scrutinized him. God, she really reminded him of Gertrude, with those eyes that cut into him like daggers, feeling like they could read his every thought. 

Finally, she let out a _hmph_ and returned to his hand, gently stitching the worst of the cuts closed. “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t go to a hospital with this.” 

“Never liked hospitals,” he shrugged. 

“Stop moving,” she snapped. She shook her head, tutting disapprovingly. “Well, I’m glad I was here to help you, then.” 

He hesitated, only for a second. “Yes, me too.” 

He was used to taking care of himself, but he had to admit, it was nice to have the help. It had been easier, since he met Michael – he was always more than willing to take care of him, if he needed it. But Michael was still at the Institute, and would be for at least a few more hours. 

She insisted on keeping him there until Michael came home from work, making him tea and wrapping him up in several quilts before sitting him down on the couch. He’d tried to protest – after all, he hadn’t lost _that_ much blood, all things considered, but she wouldn’t hear of anything less. 

He’d been hoping that maybe he could sneak out, head back to his own flat and collapse into his bed when her back was turned. He had to admit, though, it was nice, curled up on her old floral couch, pretending to watch some drama or another on her clunky box T.V. as she bustled about the kitchen, humming a tune he didn’t recognize. Within minutes, he’d slipped quietly into a dreamless sleep. 


	9. Quiet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael and Sam talk parenting

“Are we sure that shelf is straight?” Sam asked, eyeballing it from where he sat with Michael at his kitchen table. “We used a level, I know, but it doesn’t look right.”

“No, I think the shelf is fine,” Michael said, squinting at it. “I think it’s the picture under it that’s crooked.” He stood up, trying to straighten it. “Better?” 

“Oh, yeah, I think that did it.” Sam stared at it a moment more before nodding, apparently satisfied. “Thank you for coming over to help me with this. I love Cass, of course, but she’s never been the greatest with power tools.” 

Michael very nearly asked him for the story behind the statement, though Sam’s wince following it quickly deterred him; whatever had happened, it didn’t look as though it had a happy ending. “Oh it’s no problem,” he said instead, “Gerry’s off on a work trip right now anyways, so it’s nice to have the company.” 

Nice to take his mind off of worrying as he hunted down another Leitner, more like. Nice to sit here, in his neighbor’s perfectly ordinary kitchen, pretending that there was little more to life than hanging shelves, work trips, and accidents caused by mundane things like power tools, and not _monsters_.

Not that he could have told any of that to Sam. So, “nice to have the company” it was. 

“Oh, I wanted to ask you –“ Sam said, and Michael felt that all-to-familiar spike of anxiety that the question always caused him, though he did his best not to show it. “I know Lena has taken to calling the two of you ‘Uncle.’ Are you ok with that? I can tell her to stop, if you’d like.” 

“Oh no, please, don’t worry about it.” Michael said, relief washing through him at the inconsequential question. He didn’t think there was anything Sam _could_ ask him that was worthy of the amount of stress the question had caused, but some things couldn’t be helped. “Gerry absolutely loves it.” 

“That’s a relief. Honestly, I think she would be devastated if I told her to stop. She really likes you two.” 

“We like her too, I have to admit. She’s a sweet kid.” Michael stirred his tea contemplatively. Abruptly, before he could think about it too much, he asked, “Is it worth it? Parenting?” 

“Yes,” Sam answered, without hesitation. “It’s not always sunshine and rainbows – Lena’s on her best behavior when you two are around – but I love my daughter. Cass and I…we didn’t really _plan_ for any of this,” he gestured vaguely around their flat, and at the drawings hanging on the fridge, “but I wouldn’t change any of it for the world.” 

Michael nodded slowly, still staring into his teacup. “You know,” he began, “I’ve always wanted kids. I’ve never really brought it up with Gerry - I won’t go into detail, obviously, but he didn’t really have the best parents. I know it’s always worried him, and I didn’t really want to drag up the past.” 

Sam didn’t say anything, nodding at him to continue. Michael hesitated, tempted to just drop it, tell Sam to forget he had said anything. It was strange, talking about this; he’d never really mentioned it to anyone, not even Gerry. But it had been on his mind a lot, lately, and if Sam was willing to let him talk…

“Plus, I’ve got my own doubts,” he laughed nervously, “and having kids has just never really seemed like a viable option, you know? But lately, after seeing him with Lena, and the party, well, I’ve been kind of wondering how he would feel about adoption.” 

Michael wasn’t quite sure what kind of response he’d expected, but a massive grin certainly wasn’t at the top of the list. “I think you should go for it.” 

“What?” 

“I’ve seen you two with Lena, _and_ at her party. I think the two of you would make _amazing_ parents. You should go for it.” 

“Well, yeah, but…” Michael floundered for words, trying to think up a good response. He was very much starting to regret bringing the topic up at all. 

Sam couldn’t possibly understand; the institute, the powers, any of it. Gerry would never want to bring a child into their lives, not when the both of them regularly fought things most people could barely imagine. Michael didn’t want to either; he couldn’t stand the thought of someone he loved, someone he was _responsible_ for getting hurt because of him. 

He couldn’t tell any of that to Sam, though; he _really_ shouldn’t have brought this up. 

“I don’t know,” he said finally, “like I said, I’ve never even mentioned it to him. He might not even want children.” 

“Aww, come on,” Sam said, punching his shoulder lightly, “There’s only one way to find out. Talk to him when he gets home – I’d bet he’s a lot more willing than you realize.” 

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, if only to appease Sam. Changing the subject, he said, “Don’t you have another shelf to hang? Maybe we should try and get that done before Cass and Lena get back.” 

Sam looked at his watch, making a face. “You’re right. Come on, it’s in the living room. We should have enough time.” 

Michael quickly drank the rest of his tea as Sam left the room. He sighed as he set the cup back down, then smiled softly. Adopting a kid - maybe it wasn’t something that could happen, but it was still nice to imagine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never want to post this many chapters in a row again. I hate HTML formatting, why did I decide this was a good idea

**Author's Note:**

> This is marked as completed, but I wouldn't be opposed to writing more for it, if anyone has prompts or anything they'd like to see!! Thanks for taking the time to read, I hope you enjoyed!!


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